


On One Condition

by TheSopherfly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Howard Stark is dead, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inheritance, Kid Fic, Leukemia, M/M, Parent Steve Rogers, Past Child Illness, References to Illness, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29128968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSopherfly/pseuds/TheSopherfly
Summary: When Tony Stark's father dies, he's tasked with meeting several conditions in order to 'earn' his inheritance. One of these conditions is making a new friend. When he meets a young girl at the park, Tony makes a friend in her father, Steve, and the two of them grow close.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020





	On One Condition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is a collab with [karadanverss](https://karadanverss.tumblr.com) for the MRBB, check out their amazing art [here](https://karadanverss.tumblr.com/post/641861698629894144/one-of-my-contributions-for-the)!
> 
> To clarify some of the tags, Carter, Steve's daughter, was sick but is currently not actively ill. There are lots of references to Howard Stark and his death, and a few references to Maria as well. 
> 
> Rated T for cursing and implied sexual content. Thanks to Yeti for beta reading!

“Excuse me.”

Tony looked up. He was sitting in the grass, leaning back against a tree. He hadn’t expected anyone to approach him, especially someone so small. He blinked, taking off his sunglasses to get a better look at her. As far as kids went - and everyone knew Tony Stark was famously _not_ a fan of kids - she was cute. She wore a flowery pink dress over a white long-sleeve shirt, with purple stockings and the smallest Mary Janes he had ever seen. She couldn’t have been more than three feet tall. White-blonde hair fell past her shoulders, held out of her face by a half-pony-tail that sat high on her head.

“I made you this.” The girl held her short arms out. Clutched in her hands was a flower crown.

“Well. Thanks very much.” Not one to deny a gift, especially one made with such care ( _did_ Tony dislike kids? Or had he not met enough of them to judge?), Tony reached out and took the flower crown, setting it on top of his head. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” was her excited reply. 

Tony laughed. When was the last time anyone had used the word beautiful in relation to him? Not since his company had released the new Iron Man tech, and that hadn’t really been about him, had it? It had been about his machines. Still, somehow it was easy to take a compliment from this small little person and believe it. She’d said it so easily, like it was an indisputable fact. Maybe that was what Tony needed to make people see him differently: not a suit of armor, but a flower crown. 

“Thank you,” Tony said sincerely. He was about to ask the obvious question - where are your parents? - when he spotted a man jogging up to them. 

“Carter,” the man said as he approached, and the girl turned to look at him. “What did I say about staying by the swingset?”

“I was tired of swinging,” she said with a little shrug of her shoulders. The man sighed in fond exasperation.

Tony tilted his head up, giving the man a once-over. He was wearing converse, loose jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel jacket lined with fleece. Pretty suitable dad clothes for this time of year, if you asked Tony. Pretty good looking dad, too. There was no doubt the man was fit. Athletic. Attractive. Tony couldn’t decide if the man’s face was more reminiscent of Abercrombie model or Disney prince. Maybe it was a little of both.

The man reached out to take the girl’s hand, then acknowledged Tony, meeting his eyes. “Sorry,” the man said. “She loves to meet new people. Can’t seem to get that whole ‘stranger danger’ thing to stick, so I’ve gotta watch her like a hawk, and even then, things happen. As you can see.”

“It’s not a problem,” Tony said, hanging his sunglasses over the front of his sweater and getting to his feet. “I was actually going to buy myself a crown later today, so she saved me a trip.”

The girl tugged on the bottom of the man’s coat. “He looks pretty, doesn’t he?”

The man looked, _really_ looked, then nodded. “He sure does.” 

Tony hadn’t been expecting that. He’d been approached by his fair share of interested strangers, but nobody so tall and blonde and handsome had ever said he looked _pretty_. He licked his lips, suddenly speechless. Damn it. What was happening to him? Did he not remember how to take a compliment? Did he not remember how to flirt? Of course, it was probably for the best that Tony didn’t start in with something stupid and flirtatious. The man was someone’s parent, after all, and where there was one parent, there was often another. Maybe this man was already attached.

“I’m Steve,” the man said, breaking the silence. “Steve Rogers.” He held out his hand, and Tony shook it.

“Tony.”

“Nice to meet you, Tony.” Steve looked down at the girl. “This is Carter. You two have obviously already met.”

Tony crouched back down to Carter’s eye level, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Carter. Officially.” She stared at his hand for a moment, then shook it hard. Tony laughed again. He’d already laughed more times today than he had in the past week. He was starting to rethink this whole ‘not a fan of kids’ thing. Maybe he needed _more_ friends who had kids. Or maybe he just needed to make more friends. Spending day after day with his attorneys and his father’s executor could get old pretty fast. 

Tony stood, and then the expression on Steve’s face was one he recognized too well.

“You know,” Steve said, “you look an awful lot like Tony Stark.”

Damn it. “Well gee, that’s my cover blown. What gave me away?”

Steve smiled, apologetic. “Your cover on Time Magazine.”

“Right. Yeah, that’ll do it.” It hadn’t been the cover he’d expected. Howard’s health had been declining for years, but his death had still come as a surprise. The magazine had called Tony for a statement, rewritten the article, and had spun it as ‘Stark Scion Takes the Reins, Inheriting Father’s Fortune.’ Laughable, considering Tony still hadn’t inherited anything. Howard’s will had been very specific. Tony’s trust was still intact, he’d gotten the money as soon as he’d turned twenty-five. But in terms of Howard’s estate, that money was wrapped up in… conditions.

It was ridiculous. Insulting. And so very, very _Howard._ Of course Tony wasn’t enough on his own. He would have to jump through hoops to prove he was worthy. To prove he deserved to inherit what he had helped his father build. Howard had somehow found a way to judge and manipulate him even in death. It was nothing new or surprising. That didn’t mean it didn’t sting. 

“I was sorry to hear about your father,” Steve said, probably thinking it was the polite thing to say.

Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks. “Yeah, well. Howard and I had a complicated relationship.” He let a little humor creep into his voice. “That’s the story you won’t get in the papers. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I would never,” Steve replied solemnly, and Tony saw a flicker of amusement in his bright blue eyes. That was the kind of blue a person could get lost in, Tony thought. “Right, well. We should be going. It was nice to meet you, Tony.”

“Daddy, can we buy him an ice cream?” 

“You know,” Steve said, and this time he was the one to crouch down to Carter’s level. “That’s an excellent idea. What do you say, Tony? Can we treat you to some ice cream?”

Tony was met with two expectant faces, and there was no force on earth that could’ve compelled him to say no. “You know, my number one rule is _never_ say no to ice cream. So I guess I have to say yes.”

~

Tony hadn’t expected the man running the ice cream truck to hand Carter the container of sprinkles, nor had he expected his whole hand to be covered in the colorful sugary pieces. This was a day full of surprises, he supposed. And he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset by any of it. He ate the ice cream, sprinkles and all, and didn’t object when Steve offered him a wet wipe to clean up.

“Thank you,” Tony said to Steve as Carter ran back toward the playground to play with the giant tic-tac-toe board. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“She’s hard to say no to. And honestly? It’s kind of nice to have another adult to talk to.”

That answered that question, then. No other adults at home. Still, Tony didn’t want to blow up what was clearly a potential friendship with any kind of unwanted advances. Yes, Steve was attractive. That didn’t mean they couldn’t just be friends. 

“This is our usual spot, Monday, Wednesday, Friday,” Steve said. “If you ever wanted to join us again.”

The invitation short circuited his brain a little. He felt warm and fuzzy and strangely validated, because for once, he’d actually made a good first impression. “I’m wrapped up in meetings for the next few days,” Tony replied. “But Friday I’m free. I’ll see you then.”

~

The next few days of meetings brought Tony nearly to his breaking point. He seriously considered going out and buying more alcohol, then thought better of it - he’d dumped it all down the drain for a reason, and damn it, he wanted to meet all of Howard’s stupid conditions just on principle. When Friday finally rolled around, he was relieved not to have to put on a suit and tie, and even more relieved to spend the afternoon in the park.

It was the tail end of summer, turning quickly into fall, and the park was busier than it had been on Monday. Still, Steve Rogers wasn’t difficult to find. He was seated on one of the benches at the far end of the playground, watching Carter climb the ladder, run across the bridge, and descend the slide over and over and over again.

“Does she ever get tired?” Tony asked, sitting down next to Steve. 

“Not usually,” Steve said, greeting Tony with a smile. “How’s your week been?”

Tony pursed his lips. He thought about saying something snide, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, he didn’t want Steve to think of him that way anyway. He didn’t want Steve to know him as difficult, snarky Tony Stark like everyone else did. “I’ve been dealing with… things. For Howard. Mountains of paperwork. So many lawyers. I think I’d rather have my teeth pulled.”

“That sounds terrible. I wish there was some way I could help.” Steve looked genuinely sorry, which was more than Tony had gotten from his father’s lawyers all week. And he wanted to _help_. Tony was getting the impression that Steve was one of those good people he kept hearing about, the ones that were always kind and selfless no matter what. It felt good that someone cared, even if it was someone he’d only met a few days ago. Maybe there was something to this whole friendship thing. Did he and Steve count as friends? He wasn’t sure.

Of course, there wasn’t anything Steve could actually do to help. Or was there? Tony covered his mouth in thought. “You know what would help?” he said, suddenly inspired. “A distraction. How do you and Carter feel about pizza?”

~

They left the park a few hours before sunset, walking together to Tony’s favorite pizzeria. Halfway through the walk, Carter insisted on holding Tony’s hand, and she swung their arms every couple of steps. Tony smiled to himself. He couldn’t help it. It was cute.

A few boxes of pizza in hand, Tony led them back to his townhome. It was an old brownstone, and from the outside it was starting to show its age. Inside, the place was fully restored, with brand new hardwood, a fireplace on every floor, and modern furnishings. It wasn’t completely to Tony’s tastes, but he’d let someone else design it before he moved in, and he hadn’t seen a reason to bother changing anything.

“Well,” Tony asked as he rifled through the cabinet, grabbing napkins and paper plates. “What do you think?”

Steve shrugged, pretending to be unimpressed. “I thought it would be bigger.”

Tony snorted. “Ouch. You wound me.” He led the way up the stairs, hanging onto the stack of pizzas and plates with one hand as he nudged the door open with the other. Steve and Carter followed him up. Tony set the boxes down on the wooden table, then pulled out three chairs. Carter ran straight to the table to claim a chair, but Steve paused, arrested by the New York skyline. 

“I take it back,” Steve said. “This view is spectacular.”

They stayed outside long after they’d finished their pizza, until the sky began to darken and the sun set. Steve told stories about his childhood, and about Carter, most of which had the effect of making Tony laugh out loud. It felt good to laugh. He didn’t get to laugh much anymore.

At the end of the evening, Steve helped Tony stow the leftover pizza in the fridge, and Tony called his private car service to take Steve and Carter home. Steve had resisted at first, but Tony had argued that it was easier than calling a cab, and it was one expense that was already covered, since his drivers were paid a monthly fee.

“So,” Steve said as he was bundling Carter into the car, which Tony was relieved to see had been outfitted with the booster seat he’d requested. Just because he didn’t always like kids, didn’t mean he didn’t know anything about them. “You think you’ll find yourself back at the park next week?”

The park was his new favorite place, and Steve and Carter his new favorite people. He wanted to say yes - but with his new work obligations, he couldn’t promise anything. “It’ll depend on my schedule,” he said tentatively. Then, he had a brilliant idea. “Let me give you my number, and I’ll text you when I’m free.” Tony held out a hand - without hesitating, Steve slipped his phone out of his pocket and passed it over. Tony punched in his number and added his name. “There,” he said, handing it back. “This is my actual cell phone, so it’s top secret. Don’t go giving it to reporters or weird stalkers or anything.”

“I would never,” Steve said, sounding a little devious. He slid into the car next to Carter. “I’ll text you on the way home so you’ll have mine, too.”

Tony closed the door and waved goodbye, and the towncar pulled down the street and turned left, disappearing from view. As he trudged back inside and closed the door, he felt his pocket vibrate. He pulled out his Starkphone, and a text appeared on his locked screen. 

_Hi. This is Steve. :)_

Tony’s eyes lingered too long on the smiley face before he typed a quick response. 

_Thanks for the company, new friend Steve._

He waited, watching the little dots flash as Steve typed his reply.

_Thanks for the pizza, new friend Tony._

~

Over the weekend, Steve texted asking if Tony wanted to come over and ‘hang out.’ Tony hadn’t been asked to ‘hang out’ in a long time, but he figured it was something that friends did, and he obviously enjoyed spending time with Steve, so he agreed.

By the look of it, Steve’s house was a family home that he’d inherited, or else bought from his family. It didn’t look old, necessarily, but well-loved. It had a kitchen with a window that looked out on the backyard, which seemed fitting for a man with a family - or with a daughter, at any rate. When Steve led him to the dining room, they all but bumped into another man with brown hair and big blue eyes.

“This is Bucky,” Steve said. “He’s an old friend. He babysits for me when I work. Or when I need a few hours to just be a grown-up.”

Tony shook Bucky's hand. “Hi. I'm Tony.”

“Good to meet you. I’ll just be upstairs hangin’ out with Carter.”

Ah. So this was one of those times where Steve wanted to be a grown-up, then. That was okay by Tony. He got time alone with Steve at the park, but not much. It might be nice to be able to talk just the two of them.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Steve asked after Bucky had made his way upstairs. “I just made a fresh pot.”

“That would make you my absolute hero.” He might’ve sounded just a little bit desperate, and he didn’t miss the way Steve’s eyebrows rose just slightly. Amusement? Interest? Tony wasn’t sure.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen, and Tony busied himself checking a few emails before setting his phone down on the table. There was no tablecloth, which probably made for easier cleanup, and there were papers strewn across the center, like they’d been brushed aside in a hurry. Tony didn’t mean to snoop, but he’d been so buried in documents all week, it was like his hands moved all by themselves to pick up one of the papers, then another, then another. Medical bills. Hospital. Durable medical equipment. Prescriptions. There were some complicated drugs here. And some absolutely enormous costs. What did Steve have that was so expensive? He didn’t look sick.

But that was because the bills weren’t Steve’s. They were Carter’s.

Tony dropped the stack of papers as Steve walked in, but it was too late. He knew he’d been caught. He winced, glancing guiltily away as Steve set a mug of coffee down in front of him. “Sorry,” he said, wishing he could actually kick himself. “Sometimes I have an impulse control problem. And I’ve been dealing with so much paperwork I just sort of want to…” He shrugged helplessly. “Pick stuff up.”

Steve sat down in the chair beside him, mug held between his palms. He seemed relaxed, as if Tony’s invasion of his privacy hadn’t really bothered him at all. “It’s alright,” Steve said. “You would’ve found out eventually.”

“Leukemia?” Tony asked. He hadn’t seen any documents with any kind of diagnosis, but he knew the names of enough cancer drugs to have a pretty good idea.

“Yep.” Steve sipped his coffee slowly, and Tony waited to see if he would elaborate. “She’s better. Right now. They don’t like to throw the term remission around lightly, so it’ll be a while before she’s officially out of the woods, but… Things are okay. They weren’t for a while, but we’re better. For now.” Steve set the coffee down on the table and rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, like the weight of everything had just settled on his shoulders. “The bills are just left over from her last treatments and her last hospital stay. It’s not cheap, and our insurance wouldn’t cover everything. Haven’t lost the house yet, but the longer I have to put off payment, the more it seems like a possibility.”

Tony hadn’t had any idea that looking at those documents would be opening that kind of can of worms. “Shit.” There was nothing else to say, or nothing that made sense. _‘Sorry’_ wasn’t enough. _‘You’re doing an amazing job dealing with all of this’_ felt a little too congratulatory for the seriousness of the situation. 

“Sorry,” Steve said when Tony didn’t have anything to add. “I know that’s a lot to throw at you. I didn’t mean to just go on like that.” He smiled ruefully to himself, and Tony got the feeling he didn’t give that speech to just anyone. “You’re a good listener.”

It was the first time anyone had ever called Tony Stark a _good listener._ He was famous for blowing off important investors and falling asleep during board meetings. Or at least, he had been. Was he becoming a better person now that he’d finally gotten out from under Howard’s shadow? Or was Steve just easy to listen to? 

“Don’t be sorry,” Tony said. “I… Shit,” he repeated, because once apparently wasn’t enough. “Are there not grants for that sort of thing, or… I don’t know. Charities? Hell, I’d give you Howard’s money if I could,” he thought out loud, only half joking. 

“It’s alright, Tony. This is something I want to do on my own. Money is tight sometimes, but we make it work. I want to be the one to make it work.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t give you Howard’s money because I don’t have access to Howard’s money, because it’s being kept safe in some sort of super secret account until I ‘clean up my act.’” He hadn’t meant to sound so resentful. It had just sort of slipped out, like it always did when he talked about Howard. He stared down into his coffee cup, then took a sip, looking up to meet Steve’s expectant, curious eyes.

“You’re really not going to give me more than that?” Steve asked.

“Alright, fine. Howard laid out some… _stipulations_ in his will. Things I have to accomplish before I get my inheritance. And I’m making my way down the list.” 

Steve sat back. “He didn’t just leave you the money?”

Tony smiled grimly. “That would’ve been too easy. Anyway. It’s not a long list. And it’s not a particularly hard one, either. It’s more the principle of the thing. Believe it or not, you’ve actually already helped. Item one is to make a friend outside of the business.”

“That would be me.”

“Well,” Tony said, “technically speaking I made friends with your daughter first, but yeah.”

Steve looked faintly amused. “What else is on the list?”

Tony let out a long sigh. “Get clean. Which wasn’t hard, really. Just poured everything down the drain.” Steve’s posture changed at that, radiating concern. It figured that a man Tony had just met seemed to care more about his well-being than his own father ever had. “It’s fine. Really, it was just a bad habit. I’m past it now.” It had been a crutch. The thing he relied on for comfort, or maybe just the thing that helped him disappear from the world. Now that Howard was gone, the need to disappear didn’t feel quite so desperate. “Anyway. The rest of the list. Name my successor. Take on or delegate Howard’s duties, as appropriate. A few other work related things, but they all fall under that umbrella. Then I just have to tune the old piano, which is easy. _Play_ the old piano, which I can do, I just… haven’t.”

“I didn’t know you played piano.”

“Another story you won’t find in the papers. You’re getting the inside scoop here, Steve Rogers.” He looked down at his hands, thoughtful. “It’s been a few years. When my mom died, I couldn’t find it in me to play. And then when I moved out of the house and away from the old piano, I just never bought a new one.”

They sat in silence, ruminating, sipping their respective coffees until Steve said, “It’s more fun to play the piano for someone, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“I could bring Carter over and you could play for us. Carter loves music.”

Tony thought about saying no. He’d never told anyone about the piano, about his mother. About what it meant to him. He wasn’t sure he was ready to invite anyone else into that mess in person. Still, it was one of the conditions in Howard’s will. And he’d probably be asked to prove he’d played it, which would be easier if someone was there to listen. Steve had trusted Tony with the gritty details of his financial problems without batting an eye. Tony could trust Steve with this. “I’m having the piano moved into my place next weekend. You could come over then.”

“Great,” Steve said, his voice light with excitement. “We’ll bring dinner this time. If that’s alright.”

“Yeah. That’s perfect.”

~

Work kept Tony too busy to meet up with Carter and Steve at the park, and Tony couldn’t help but feel just the smallest bit resentful about it. He stared out the window and thought of the swingset, the merry-go-round, the silly white flowers that Carter had used to make the flower crown. At least he had something happy to think about, instead of the new heap of responsibilities he had to figure out how to take on and delegate. 

Tony and Steve texted regularly throughout the week, and Tony found himself holding his phone under the table during board meetings just in case, waiting for the next message. He knew they were supposed to be just friends. Still, part of him wondered if they could ever be more.

In the following week, Tony made time for the park, stopping by on Monday and Wednesday. The outside air and the good company were exactly what he needed to break up the monotony of meetings and phone calls and paperwork, and more than once he was enlisted to give Carter a piggy-back ride, which he discovered was more than enough exercise for one day. He and Steve texted, sometimes late at night after Carter had gone to sleep. 

The weekend finally came, and along with it, his mother’s piano. They’d somehow managed to get it into the house - Tony really didn’t want to know how - and he stared at it for a long time, not sure how he felt about having it in his space. Before he could even convince himself to sit down on the bench, he took a picture of it and sent it to Steve. Steve's reply came almost instantaneously. 

_It’s beautiful. Can’t wait to hear you play._

Tony ran a hand through his hair, then proceeded to pace around and beside the piano for the next hour. A few hours later, he found it in himself to tune it. By the evening, he still hadn’t managed to play it.

Steve and Carter arrived Sunday afternoon with garlic bread, salad, and homemade lasagna. It was the best Tony had eaten all week, and he felt spoiled. There were even leftovers, which Steve insisted he keep in his nearly empty fridge. “I don’t know how you eat so many frozen meals and stay sane,” Steve said as he closed the tupperware containers and stacked them on the lowest shelf.

“Maybe that’s my secret,” Tony joked. “I’m actually not sane at all.”

Steve shook his head. “Nah. I don’t buy it.”

When they moved into the living room, the first thing Carter did was sit herself down at the piano and start plunking at the keys. It was nonsense with no melody, but it was still one of the sweetest things Tony had ever seen, and when Steve moved to stop her, Tony held a hand out. “She’s fine,” he said softly. “Mom would’ve loved it.”

After letting Carter play for a few minutes, Tony sat down beside her, scooting her over so he was in the center of the bench. He put his fingers on the keys, and Carter jumped up, bouncing up and down. “Play something!”

“Yeah?” Tony’s heart twisted, his mother’s face flashing in his mind’s eye. _It’s a piano, darling_ , he could hear her saying. _It deserves to be played._ “Alright,” Tony said. “What should I play?”

He reached for the book full of children’s songs he’d taken out of the piano bench earlier that day. He started at the beginning and made his way from one song to the next, singing softly, trying to keep his eyes on the music enough to read it while Carter danced and wiggled around the room. It was oddly therapeutic, playing music for someone other than himself. And Carter was too young to know how to hold back her enthusiasm. 

When they were done with the children’s songs, he tucked the book away and pulled out another piece, one he hadn’t expected to find. The pages were old, and they’d clearly been damaged by the light, but the music was still readable. “My Mom had a thing for older songs,” Tony said to Carter. “I know this one from a really sappy movie.” Tony began to play the song, _I’ll Be Seeing You,_ and his heart nearly melted when Steve picked Carter up and danced with her. It must’ve been soothing, because Carter was asleep by the end of the song, her head heavy against Steve’s chest. Tony lifted his hands and stood up slowly, closing the piano as quietly as possible. 

“My mom loved old-school songs like that too,” Steve said in a whisper.

Tony again insisted on calling Steve a car, and he walked Steve to the door, carrying Steve’s bag for him and tucking it into the front seat.

“Thanks for coming over,” Tony said softly once Steve had gotten Carter buckled into the booster seat.

“Of course. It was fun. Goodnight, Tony.” Out of nowhere, Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, squeezing it gently.

Tony smiled, struggling to swallow past the enormous lump in his throat. “Goodnight, Steve.”

~

It was Saturday evening, three weeks later, when Tony was interrupted by a knock on his door.

At first he was embarrassed that whoever it was had caught him at home on a Saturday night. He was Tony Stark, for goodness’ sake. He used to throw parties that lasted all weekend long. Now he was sitting inside alone on a Saturday reading a book. What was happening to him? Maybe he was finally growing up. Too bad Howard wasn’t around to see it.

Tony opened the door and came face to face with Steve Rogers.

“Hi,” Steve said.

“Hi,” Tony replied, pleased and surprised all at once. Steve hadn’t called, hadn’t even texted. But of course, Steve had known Tony would be home. Steve pretty much knew about all of Tony’s plans nowadays.

“I was wondering if you might want some company,” Steve said. “And I brought wine.” He held up the bottle as if it was some kind of incentive. Tony couldn’t fathom how Steve hadn’t figured it out by now - Tony didn’t need any incentive to want to spend time with him. None at all. Steve’s company was more than enough.

“Believe it or not, I would love some company.” Tony blinked, noticing for the first time that Steve was alone. “But hang on, what about your shadow?”

Steve normally smiled when Tony called Carter his shadow, but this time a small quirk of his lips was all Tony got. “She’s got a babysitter.”

Oh. _Oh._ Damn it, Tony was slow, and apparently getting slower. Steve had come alone, at night. He’d brought wine. He looked impossibly handsome. He’d worn that shirt and those pants and he was biting his lip and Tony wanted to _devour_ him.

“Right,” Tony said, just barely keeping his voice from cracking. “Great. Come on in.”

They drank a glass of wine each, sitting together on the love-seat, close but not quite touching. Tony set his empty glass on the coffee table, and he nearly stopped breathing as Steve shifted closer, their thighs brushing together. “I need to tell you something,” Steve said.

Tony licked his lips. “Okay. Shoot.”

“I…” Steve trailed off, searching Tony’s face. “I don’t think I’m interested in being just friends.”

Tony stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to come up with any kind of reply.

Unperturbed, Steve tried again. “I like you, Tony.”

Finally, Tony found his voice enough to say, “I like you too.”

Tony didn’t know how it happened. One second he was sitting on the couch, calm and cool and collected - the next he was surging forward, practically crawling onto Steve’s lap and covering his lips with a kiss.

Steve kissed back like a man on a mission, lips soft and probing, tongue sweeping into Tony’s mouth like Steve was trying to learn every secret part of him. Steve’s hands slid into Tony’s hair, soft, gentle, almost reverent, and Tony whined, a little noise that was barely audible over the sounds of their lips coming together. 

After what felt like ages they came up for air. Steve had somehow stretched out on the love-seat, and Tony was straddling him, pinning him to the cushions. Steve looked up at the clock. “I’ve got the babysitter until eleven,” he said, his eyes dark.

Reluctantly, Tony extricated himself from the couch and stood up. Steve followed his lead, shifting to sit upright when Tony finally felt bold enough to say, “My bed’s a lot more comfortable.”

Steve stood and stepped in close, and suddenly Tony realized just how tall Steve was. Steve crowded into his space, his hands finding Tony’s waist as he leaned down to kiss him again. “Lead the way,” he said, following Tony toward the stairs. 

~

By the time Tony got word he had met all of Howard’s conditions and would be receiving his inheritance in the following days, he had almost forgotten about the whole thing. He’d been too caught up in his new more-than-friendship, in work, in finally being able to play the piano again. He skimmed through the paperwork, then took out his phone to check his bank account only to discover the money had already been transferred. Wow. He hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. He thought back to that day at Steve’s house, to the pile of medical bills on the table. He’d joked about giving Steve some of the inheritance money - and there was a lot of it - to help cover those expenses. Now he actually had the ability to do it.

He’d brought the check to give to Steve himself, tucked into a plain envelope with Steve’s name on it. He’d set it down on the table, then stepped out into the entryway to hang up his jacket. When he got back, Steve had already found the letter and picked it up.

“What’s this?” he asked Tony.

“It’s… something for you,” Tony said lamely. Suddenly he’d lost all his nerve. Some cowardly part of him wanted to snatch the letter back and pretend it had never existed.

Slowly, Steve opened the envelope. Tony stood stock still, waiting. Bracing for a bad reaction. Hoping for a good one. After what felt like hours, Steve looked up at Tony with accusing eyes. “Explain this to me.”

Tony swallowed. “It’s a check,” he said carefully. Steve’s hard expression didn’t change. “To cover Carter’s medical expenses.”

Steve’s mouth pressed into a line. “Why did you do this?”

“It’s from the foundation, not from me-”

“You still did exactly what I asked you not to do! Tony, I told you, I want to do this on my own. I don’t want assistance, I don’t want charity.”

Steve was right. Steve had told him. Not just that first time, when they’d talked at the table, but several times after, when Tony had hinted that it might be time for Steve to accept help. Tony hadn’t listened. Tony had thought he knew better. There was still a part of Tony that thought he was right and Steve was wrong. 

“Steve, this is exactly what charity is for. For people who need help and don’t have other means to get it!” Tony knew that Steve was proud. Tony understood that Steve didn’t want someone else to ride in on a white horse and save him. But Steve needed to think about the bigger picture. He could lose his house. He could lose Carter. And if Steve lost either of those things, then Tony would lose Steve. Tony wasn’t about to let that happen.

The reality of those thoughts, of his own ulterior motives, was just starting to dawn on Tony when Steve demanded, “How did you get this money?” 

“It’s from the foundation.”

“That doesn’t tell me where it came from.”

“Fine.” This conversation wasn’t going the way Tony had planned, and he couldn’t help the resentment that spilled into his voice. “It’s Dad’s. Howard’s.” The slip made him want to kick himself. He hadn’t called Howard ‘Dad’ in years. Why now? “The estate finally released the funds. I transferred them to the foundation, and then wrote a check to you.”

“I’m not taking this.”

“Steve, please-”

But Steve was already ripping the check in half. Tony felt like tearing out his hair. He settled for clenching his fists so hard that his nails would leave marks in his palms.

“That was stupid,” Tony bit out before he could stop himself.

Steve shook his head. “Get out.”

For a second, Tony stopped breathing. “What?”

“You heard me, Tony. I’m asking you to leave.”

Oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit._ “Steve. Come on.”

“No. I told you what I wanted, Tony, and you didn’t care. You just wanted to swoop in and fix it and make it perfect, but not everything can be perfect.”

This was spinning out of his control too fast, and Tony didn’t know what to do. “I know that. I know not everything can be perfect. I just thought-”

“You thought you would choose what was best for me. Without asking.” 

Tony couldn’t do anything but stand there looking guilty, wishing he could melt into the floor and disappear. Steve shook his head, slamming the two halves of the check down on the table. The sound rang in Tony’s ears, harsh and angry. 

“Please just go,” Steve said, so soft that Tony barely heard him.

“Steve-”

“Go.”

Tony clenched his jaw. Swallowed. Listened to his own heartbeat pounding in his head. He could barely see through the tears gathering in his eyes. He turned around and stalked out, his footfalls quick and quiet, the only sound the screen door clattering closed behind him. He made it to his car with seconds to spare before the panic swallowed him whole.

~

Three days passed, and Tony didn’t hear from Steve.

He sent messages. Messages of apology. Messages asking what Steve wanted him to do, if Steve was okay, if Steve was ever going to talk to him again. No response. The radio silence was deafening, and Tony still couldn’t figure out if he deserved it. He considered deleting Steve’s number from his phone. He thought about throwing his phone out the window, but that would have been a childish, not to mention expensive, outburst. He settled for turning it off and tucking it under his pillow.

He finally managed to drag himself into the shower, where he stood under the scalding water until his skin was red. He pulled on sweats and a tee, then sat down at the piano, playing through his mother’s old song books until his fingers were sore.

It wasn’t until dinnertime when his stubbornness returned full force. He went up to the spare room and rifled through the file cabinets until he found the checkbook connected to his trust fund. He spent another ten minutes looking for a pen - most everything he did was digital nowadays, except signing the paperwork for his thrice damned inheritance - then wrote another check to Steve. He dug through the desk drawer and managed to find some bright orange post-it notes. He stuck one to the front of the check, scribbling a note on it. _I’m sorry. Don’t rip this one up._

He went to the post office to buy an envelope and mail the check himself. While he was there, he bought stamps with the Calvin and Hobbes characters on them, though he didn’t have anyone to send any letters to. Maybe he just wanted to know he had the option. Maybe he’d write a letter to his friend Rhodey, who’d been gone for six months in the army on a need-to-know mission doing god knows what. 

Tony didn’t know when the check would be received. He was sure either way that Steve wouldn’t contact him. He’d well and truly ruined that relationship, hadn’t he? Hell, it hadn’t even _been_ a relationship. It had just been turning into one. He stretched out on the bed, opening up the app for his bank account and checking his balance. What he saw made him want to laugh and scream at the same time. 

Steve had cashed the check.

~

Two weeks passed, and still no word from Steve. Tony hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed their conversations and their time together. _You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,_ wasn’t that how the song went? Tony felt Steve’s absence acutely. He missed Carter, too. Missed her silliness. Her laugh. Her hilarious, sometimes brutal honesty. 

When Tony was at work, he threw himself headlong into his projects. He paid attention during meetings. He asked questions and demanded answers. He was suddenly more involved than he had ever been, and he couldn’t tell if his colleagues were pleased or terrified. At home, Tony couldn’t stop feeling lonely and empty. He struggled to sleep at night. He thought about buying more alcohol, but didn’t. He fell into a mindless routine, staying awake until just before dawn, sleeping for a few hours, then ordering takeout and sitting in front of the television. He was doing just that, eating egg noodles out of a takeaway carton, when the doorbell rang.

Slowly, Tony set the container aside and rose from his chair, wondering who could possibly want anything with him on a Saturday afternoon. He thumped down the stairs, the wood cold on his bare feet. He really needed to remember to put on socks. Like an idiot, Tony opened the door before checking the peephole.

It was Steve standing on his doorstep, looking as handsome as ever.

Tony had never allowed Steve to see him so utterly broken. He hadn’t washed his hair in days. His sweatshirt was a size too big, and it hung off of him in a way he was sure was deeply unattractive. His goatee, normally perfectly trimmed, was growing out into something resembling a scruffy beard, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was stupid. He cared more about Steve hating him than he’d cared about his own father’s death, and his response was to let himself fall entirely to pieces.

“Hi,” he said, hoping his eyes didn’t look too glassy from his lack of sleep. He tried to sound casual as he continued, “What’s up?”

He saw Steve look him over, saw the empathy and concern on Steve’s face. “Are you alright?” Steve asked.

“Always,” Tony said. The one habit he’d never break. No matter how spectacularly he blew up his personal life, he would say ‘always’ like everything was perfect. Every time. He shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. Even if Steve was here to make amends, Tony wasn’t sure he was ready for it. “Um. Can I help you with something?”

“Tony. You’ve already helped so much.”

Tony suppressed a strangled noise. “Oh?”

“I cashed the check. It’s your personal account, I know you’ve seen it.”

“Yeah. I have.”

“I can’t thank you enough.” It wasn’t an apology, but it still made Tony’s chest tight. 

“Honestly, it was the least I could do.”

Steve shook his head, like he knew that wasn’t true but didn’t want to waste his breath arguing. “I actually came to bring you this.” Steve handed him a bright pink envelope. “Carter said she wanted to invite the Piano Man to the party. That’s her name for you now.” 

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Mom would be proud.”

“Carter misses you.” The unspoken phrase hung in the air, so clearly Tony could almost hear it. _‘I miss you.’_

Tony wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “Well,” he said, just barely holding it together, “she has good taste in friends.”

“I agree.” 

It was like a punch to the gut. Steve was thanking him, complimenting him. Was he or was he not forgiven? 

“Come to the party,” Steve said, soft and persuasive. “Tinkerbell will be there. And we’re having ice cream."

That was a dirty trick. Tony thought back to that day at the park, his hand covered in sprinkles. “You know I can’t break my number one rule.” He sniffed, then shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll be there.”

~

The party was an unmitigated success. When Tony arrived, he was greeted at the door by no fewer than four of Carter’s friends, as well as Carter herself. She grabbed his hand and tugged him inside, dragging him through the house and toward the backyard where Tinkerbell was setting up a magical play area. Steve had even filled up a kiddie pool, and Tony wondered if he had any hope of keeping his clothes dry through the end of the party.

Tinkerbell - obviously a young woman whose job it was to play princesses at parties - told a story about her time in Neverland. Tony tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t help but be distracted by Steve, who was sitting just a few feet away from him. When the story was over, Tinkerbell walked around to each of the children, placing something into their hands.

“What’d she give you?” Tony asked.

“Pixie dust!” Carter shouted, flinging her hands up into the air. The glitter flew everywhere, and Tony let out a fake scream.

“That’s too much pixie dust,” Tony said. “Now I”m going to fly away!” He jumped up and took off at a run, and Carter chased after him until Tinkerbell recaptured everyone’s attention.

Three hours and two scoops of ice cream later, all the guests had left. Steve was doing the cleaning outside while Bucky handled the inside, grumbling about how much glitter was stuck to the kitchen’s tile floor. Carter had found Tony and insisted they watch a TV show together. After the first few minutes, she had clambered onto his lap, resting her head against his chest.

“She likes you,” Bucky said when he was finally finished sweeping. 

“Well. She was my first official friend.” Tony felt Carter getting heavier in his arms and glanced down to see her eyelids drooping. “Looks like someone’s had a little too much fun today.”

“Here. Let me take her to bed.” Bucky crossed around to the front of the couch and held out his hands. Tony made the transfer, trying not to jostle Carter as he passed her over.

“Thanks,” Tony said quietly.

“No problem.” He heard Bucky’s soft footfalls behind him, and then the creaking sounds of the staircase. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

He’d had fun at the party. Still, it felt like he’d been holding his breath for hours, waiting for something to go wrong. Now he finally allowed himself to breathe, relaxing his shoulders. He looked out the kitchen window at Steve, watched as he flipped the kiddie pool over and water streamed out onto the grass. That must’ve been the last of the cleanup, because Steve stood and stretched, then turned back and caught Tony looking. Tony licked his lips, then waved stupidly.

Steve smiled, that big, goofy smile that Tony had grown so fond of. He made his way back inside and closed the door, leaning back against it in what was probably half-fake and half-real exhaustion.

“That was some party,” Tony said.

“They get bigger every year,” Steve replied, but there was no bite in the complaint. Tony wasn’t surprised. He was sure Steve enjoyed spoiling his daughter on her birthday. Plus, a bigger party meant more friends. Every kid needed friends.

Tony glanced back out the window, not quite ready to hold Steve’s gaze for so long. “The sunset’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Steve said, crossing to stand beside him. A pause. Then, “It really accentuates the pixie dust in your hair.”

“Ah shit.” Tony hadn’t even noticed. How long had Steve let him walk around _sparkling?_ Kids’ parties were fun, but they were dangerous. He’d have to be more careful next time.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Steve swept a gentle hand through Tony’s hair. Tony felt his whole body relax in an instant, and he leaned back against the counter to keep himself from pressing forward. Steve always handled Tony with such care. Tony had never felt that kind of gentleness, never gotten that kind of attention from anyone. He closed his eyes, just for a few seconds, then blinked them open when he felt Steve’s palms cradling his face.

“Steve…”

Steve searched Tony’s eyes, and Tony knew he wouldn’t find any resistance there. Still, Tony was surprised when Steve leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t long or deep or passionate, not this time; this time, it was like coming home. Tony held onto Steve’s arms, releasing his grip only when Steve pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, and Tony could tell he wasn’t talking about the kiss.

“ _I’m_ sorry.” Tony shook his head. “I’m… I’m not good with boundaries. I heard what you said and I didn’t listen.” He looked down at the ground, staring at their feet. “For what it’s worth, I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, and Tony looked up in surprise. “Bucky says I’m stubborn. That it was stupid for me to let pride get in the way of something that would really help my kid. And me. As usual, he’s right. I’m sorry I shut you out. It wasn’t fair.” Slowly, gently, Steve threaded their fingers together. He squeezed Tony’s hand. Tony squeezed back. “Bucky also says I was stupid to let you get away once, and I sure as hell shouldn’t do it again.”

Bucky was quickly becoming Tony’s new favorite person. He tried not to sound too desperately hopeful. “Yeah? And do you agree with him?”

Steve nodded. “Just because I was mad, doesn’t mean I stopped thinking about you. I’m sorry I stopped talking to you. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Tony couldn’t help it. He was the one to lean in and kiss Steve this time, grasping Steve’s shirt with his free hand, hanging onto Steve like a lifeline. “I can’t promise I won’t do anything stupid ever again,” he said when they drew apart. “But I can promise to consult you first.”

Steve swept his thumb over Tony’s cheek, nodding in agreement. “That sounds fair to me.”

~

The next time Steve and Tony took Carter to the park, the leaves were just starting to change colors. The three of them played tag - Carter won every time - and then Carter made flower crowns for each of them. When it was Tony’s turn to have his crown bestowed upon him, he bowed extravagantly, saying, “Why thank you, my lady.” He knelt down, and she placed the flower crown delicately on his head. He glanced over at Steve. “How do I look?”

“You look _beautiful,”_ Carter said before bouncing off toward the see-saw.

“She’s right,” Steve said, taking Tony’s hand. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Tony shot back, bringing Steve’s hand to his lips.

~


End file.
